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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22476766">hot chocolate date</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/onceagainoncemore/pseuds/onceagainoncemore'>onceagainoncemore</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>all i want is for this to be real [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>IT (Movies - Muschietti)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aged-Up Losers Club (IT), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Flirting, Gen, Holding Hands, Hot Chocolate, M/M, Oblivious, POV Richie Tozier, Pre-Relationship, Rated T for Trashmouth, they're around 18 here!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:02:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,293</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22476766</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/onceagainoncemore/pseuds/onceagainoncemore</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's far too cold to do anything.</p>
<p>Except, maybe, go on a not-so-platonic ice-rink date with Eddie Kaspbrak.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>all i want is for this to be real [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1617133</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>90</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>hot chocolate date</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>someone asked for something wintery over on tumblr, and i was so very sorry i didn't manage to do it! so here's richie's side to these dates !</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Richie’s freezing. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He’s freezing, but yet, he’s burning up.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie links his arm with Richie’s, sending a jolt of something warm through Richie’s chest, chattering about the local ice rink, and how unsanitary their ice was. Richie tugs Eddie just that little bit closer, but only because he’s cold. Eddie doesn’t even acknowledge the fact he’s pressed against Richie’s side now, and even leans further into him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Richie’s warm.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie is leading them to the ice rink, because even if he spent all his time saying how unsafe the place was, he loved it there. And Richie liked it there too. It was cool, the guy that gave you your skates was super nice, and Bev and Ben went on a date here once.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s easier to pretend you’re on a date when you know the spot has already been used as a date area. Richie doesn’t see romance until someone shows him. Bev spent days talking about how romantic it was for Ben to share a milkshake with her, and how sweet it was, and Richie didn’t think it was possible to be endeared by sharing a milkshake until he convinced Eddie to split one. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually, he thinks he’ll tell Eddie. Maybe one day, when Richie isn’t a coward, he’ll tell Eddie </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hey, remember all those times we hung out together, alone, for the past five years? I’ve been imagining they’re dates. I'd really like to make out with you, and go on actual dates, and make out with you some more. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He knows what Eddie’s response to </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> would be, so he hasn’t told Eddie yet.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you have money for skates?” Eddie asks as they reach the front of the building. Richie shakes his head, and Eddie sighs, heavy and dramatic, but pulls Richie inside anyway. They walk straight past the skate renting, and Eddie pushes him down onto a chair in the cafe. “I’ll shout the fucking hot chocolates, you cheapskate.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Richie grins, and puts his chin into his hands, and watches Eddie stalk off. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a little warmer in here, but whatever heat Richie’s chest had been producing disappears when Eddie moves away, so he doesn’t take off his jacket. It’s one Eddie convinced him to buy - all big and down-filled and very, very practical, and Richie pretends to hate it. It’s his favourite jacket.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie comes back, armed with a snowflake shaped number, and positions it in the perfect spot for the waiter to see it, as if they weren’t the only people in the cafe.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Take your jacket off,” Eddie says, and unzips his own. “You’ll overheat.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Just for you, Eddie Spaghetti,” Richie says, just to see Eddie roll his eyes, and takes his jacket off. Their drinks come faster than expected, and Richie grins when he sees the size of them. Eddie </span>
  <em>
    <span>supersized </span>
  </em>
  <span>them! </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie takes a sip of his, and hums. Richie leans back in his chair so his knee is touching Eddie’s, and the heat comes back, burning even hotter when Eddie brings one of his hands down to grip Richie’s thigh. Richie doesn’t drink his, knowing he’ll burn his tongue, just content in watching Eddie enjoy his.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop staring, weirdo,” Eddie says, but he doesn’t move his hand.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Only if you stop being so cute!” Richie says, and finally takes a sip. It’s rich and dark, and Eddie’s gotten him hazelnut syrup, so it’s stupidly sugary. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ll need to brush your teeth extra hard tonight,” Eddie says.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Richie looks away, out onto the ice. There’s a few people he recognises - little Georgie Denbrough and his friends, Bill standing shakily in the corner. There’s a couple girls from his grade with their boyfriends, and Richie has to force himself to not move away from Eddie when one of them looks over. He winks at the girl, and she makes a face, and Richie snorts. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Who are you flirting with?” Eddie says, and Richie wants to hear jealousy. There isn’t, of course not, but Richie likes pretending.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Only you, Eds,” Richie says, and ruffles Eddie’s hair with his hot chocolate warmed hand. Eddie bats him away, scowling, but Richie can see the smile underneath. Richie doesn’t mind being the class clown sometimes. Everything he says is a joke. “How could I flirt with someone else, knowing that the prettiest boy on earth is sitting in front of me!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut up,” Eddie says, but he’s blushing, and he didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>beep beep </span>
  </em>
  <span>Richie, so Richie pinches his cheek.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Last winter at home,” Richie says, after a couple minutes. He’s already drained his cup, but Eddie’s still taking small sips of his, careful to avoid eating the marshmallow. He eats those last, all warm and gooey. “How are you feeling about it?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Good,” Eddie says. “Really good, Rich.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Richie smiles, and Eddie does too.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“They sell toasties here, right?” Richie asks, and cranes his neck to try to see the menu. Eddie huffs, and throws the paper menu sitting on the table at him. “Ooh, they got gluten free bread, Eds! Guess your mom’s bitching did something for once! I got enough cash for two, if you want one, Eddie.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, alright,” Eddie says, and it’s oddly soft, so Richie ignores it by jumping up, and ordering their sandwiches. Cheese, tomato, gluten free for Eddie, an</span>
  <em>
    <span> everything you’ve got!</span>
  </em>
  <span> for himself. There’s never enough bread for the ingredients, but that’s what makes it a classic.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When he sits back down, he spreads his arms out, one of his hands almost unbearably close to Eddie’s. Eddie looks at it, and Richie freezes, his blood suddenly both boiling and frozen at once, and then Eddie holds it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie’s holding his hand.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie motherfucking Kaspbrak is holding his hand.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I knew you loved me,” Richie says, and he’s expecting, almost wanting, craving, for Eddie to drop his hand, yell at him, remember whose hand he was holding, but Eddie just smiles, and grips tighter. Richie swallows, and hides his face in his super sized mug, forgetting there wasn’t anything left for him to even pretend he was drinking.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When their food arrives, Eddie still doesn’t let go, not even to sanitize his hands. Richie tries to pretend that he wasn’t sweating, that he wasn’t filled with that warmth from earlier. They eat, in complete silence, holding hands, and Eddie only lets go to slide his jacket back on.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“My mom will freak if I’m out for much longer,” Eddie says, and gestures to Richie’s jacket. Richie puts it on, and follows Eddie outside. Eddie grabs his hand again, shoving their arms into his pocket, and then he looks at Richie, eyes wide. “Is this okay?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“More than,” Richie says, and his voice is a little too dreamy to be passed off as casual, but Eddie doesn’t seem to notice. They start the walk back to Eddie’s place, pressed even closer than the walk to the rink. Richie’s overheated, and his hand is sweaty and damp, but still, Eddie doesn’t let go.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Eddie says, and moves away. He turns back, taking a deep breath, the movement exaggerated by his fifteen pound duck down jacket. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Richie kisses his cheek.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“See you,” He says, and now his face is burning also. Eddie doesn’t scream, again. It’s almost like this is a real date, where Richie remembered the money to pay for both their skates and buy them icecreams and he was walking Eddie home just to see him for a little longer. Only one of those is true. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Eddie breathes. He raises a hand up to his cheek, smiles, and waves, almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>skipping </span>
  </em>
  <span>inside. Richie watches, his mouth open, until he remembers that Mrs K is inside, so he runs. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His lips tingle for the next twelve hours.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i have a tumblr! hmu at onceagainthennevermore</p></blockquote></div></div>
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